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For several years I worked in an office. Looking back, it was the best job I ever had. Not the office work itself, but the times when I managed to get stood on, or got to clean various co-workers boots, etc. As the years went by, I'm sure it had become quite obvious that I have a foot fetish, which is possibly why my employment contract was not renewed. I managed to provide shoeshines to 9 different co-workers while I worked there, but the one who stands out the most is Kelly.
Kelly was quite tall, about 5'10 and always wore heels to work, making her several inches taller than me in her heels. Kelly had long brown hair and blue eyes and was very pretty with a beautiful smile. She weighed around 130 pounds. There were 3 of us working in the office area, Kelly and myself worked in the back office and Marie worked at the reception desk. I was Kelly and Marie's supervisor. There were also 7 or 8 professionals working there, but they were busy all day with appointments and were often out of the office at local health centres. My time working with Kelly was one of my best experiences, but in the end it turned into a nightmare.
We'd worked together for a month and then one day Kelly came limping out of the storeroom, saying she'd twisted her ankle. As the First Aid Officer, I advised her to take her boot off in case her ankle or foot began to swell. She sat on a desk and tried to remove her boot but it seemed to cause too much pain.
"Do you want me to help you with that" I asked.
Kelly nodded and said "Yes please".
I knelt on the floor in front of her and held her booted foot in my hands. Kelly's boots were dark blue leather ankle boots with a thick tapering heel about 3 inches high. I was looking for a zip at the sides or at the back of the boot but couldn't find one. I asked Kelly if there was a zip and she told me "No, just pull it off".
So I pulled her boot off and placed it next to me on the floor, but holding her foot in my left hand. Kelly was wearing thick grey tights and her foot was really warm and quite damp with sweat. I asked Kelly to move her foot if she could and then pressed her toes and on her sole, and then told her it seemed to be a sprain and that she should put ice on it. I told Kelly to stay there and got an ice pack from the lunchroom fridge.
I knelt back down and asked Kelly if there was any swelling. She looked down at her ankle, moving her foot forward so that her toes were lightly touching my ribs.
"I don't know. I can't really tell. Maybe." she said.
"OK. Um, we might have to compare it to your other, uninjured ankle. Is it OK if I take off your left boot as well?"
"Sure." Kelly said with a slight laugh.
I gently pulled off her boot and placed it neatly next to her other one.
I then held both of her feet at the back of her heels and brought them forward so her toes were resting on my lowest rib. "What do you think? It doesn't seem to be swollen".
Kelly moved her feet slightly as she inspected her ankles for any signs of swelling then said "No, I don't think it's swollen but it's very painful".
I let go of her left foot and cupped the heel of her right foot in one hand and placed the icepack on the outside of her ankle. "Is that too cold?"
"No that's good" Kelly replied. She also kept her left foot resting against my ribs, probably because my right forearm was in the way behind her foot. She seemed quite comfortable sitting on the desk, with me on my knees, holding her right foot while she rested her left foot against me.
Just then the phone rang and Kelly answered the call, as I quietly cursed the interruption. It was just one of Kelly's friends (Kelly spent a lot of time on personal calls each day). Kelly started chatting to her friend, talking about the clubs they went to on the weekend, their plans for the next weekend, gossiping about people they knew, talking about jackets and other clothes. They chatted away for at least ten minutes while I continued to hold Kelly's foot and she continued to rest her other foot on my chest, every so often slightly repositioning her left foot on my torso, from having the whole sole resting flat with her toes on my chest, to just pressing her toes against my stomach or ribs. For a little while she was gently rubbing her toes and the ball of her foot against my rib, seeming to like the feel of the contrast between hard rib and soft stomach. I looked at her as she did this and she seemed totally absorbed in her conversation and not even aware of my presence kneeling at her feet. At other times, she might glance down and give me an encouraging smile.

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Part 2
When Kelly finally got off the phone she looked right at me and said "Move the icepack round the other side now. And put it mostly on the back of my ankle".
I did this and then Kelly said "And move it a bit higher." I did this and Kelly said "Yeah that's good" and after a slight pause adding "You're doing a good job".
I said thank you and told Kelly to let me know when she'd had enough of the icepack but she replied "Well not for a while yet. It's still a bit sore".
I explained to Kelly that after the ice, I would put a compression bandage on her ankle and that she should keep her foot elevated whenever she can.
"OK, Cool" Kelly replied as she picked up a magazine from her desk and began reading it. Then she did a big yawn and moved her left foot so it was resting sideways against my chest. So there I was, making myself useful by holding an icepack to Kelly's injured ankle while she rested her uninjured foot on my chest like it was natural to use me as a footrest. I sat there and looked up at Kelly, but she was looking through her magazine with a bored expression on her face, even yawning occasionally, pressing her foot firmly into my chest with each little yawn. Her sweaty foot just a few inches below my face, I could smell the aroma of her sweaty foot and it smelt kind of sweet. I was loving it all, but wondered what Kelly thought of the strange situation. I was sure I hadn't given any indication to Kelly about my fetish, and I'd been discreet whenever I took a quick glance at Kelly's footwear (her work footwear being these blue ankle boots, a pair of black loafers with chunky heels and, most commonly, her beige boots with a square toe and wide high heel). Kelly was a 19 year old who lived for the weekend. Her work ethic was often criticised by other staff, and I'd had a few comments that when I was out, Kelly would sit with her feet on the desk reading magazines. So maybe she just liked to sit with her feet up reading magazines. Then Kelly moved her foot slightly so that her heel slid to my ribs just below my chest and her toes came up to my collarbone. And again she began absentmindedly flexing her toes back and forth across my collarbone... down to the top of my chest and then back up over the bone to scrunch her toes lightly into my neck just above the collarbone. I was watching Kelly as she nonchalantly perused her magazine, seemingly without any interest at all in the person who was nursing her sore foot while she rubbed her other foot on him, finding his ribs and collarbone particularly useful for rubbing her foot against. As I watched Kelly yawning as she read that magazine, I realised that the icepack wasn't even cold anymore - it was warm. Kelly wasn't getting any benefit from the icepack anymore, she was just so comfortable sitting there having her right foot cradled in my hands while she put her other foot on me however she liked. And yet she seemed to be so blase about it all, as though it was my job, as First Aid Officer, to kneel at her feet and be used as basically a footstool by my teenaged employee.
Suddenly Marie, the receptionist came to the desk and looked slightly surprised to see me on my knees, holding Kelly's foot while her other stockings foot was rested on my chest.
I went a bit red with embarrassment, but Kelly just smiled at Marie and said "Needed some first aid".
Marie asked what was wrong and Kelly told her she sprained her ankle but it feels a lot better now, as she slid her left foot down so the heel rested at the top of my stomach with her toes flexed back and lifted her right foot from my hands to rest beside her other foot with both heels on my stomach/bottom rib. Kelly then moved the balls of her feet forward so that both feet were flat and began to dig her toes into my upper chest. "OK, I'm ready for my bandage now" Kelly chirped.
I asked Marie to pass me the first aid kit from beside my desk and then began to apply the bandage to Kelly's ankle and foot. As I slowly wound the bandage around Kelly's stockinged foot, I moved her foot as needed and changed where I held her foot often, thinking this would almost certainly be the last time I would ever get to touch Kelly's feet. Marie returned to her desk.
I looked up at Kelly who didn't even smile as she said "thanks for that".
"You're welcome" I said as I stood up.
Kelly said "Ahh... my boots?"
I bent over and picked up her blue ankle boots from the floor but as I went to hand them to Kelly she gave a little pout and kept her hands resting on the table. I just stood there holding her boots for a few seconds before Kelly moved her feet forward to where I'd been kneeling and pointedly looked down at her feet, then at the boots, and then back to her feet before giving me a pleading look.
"Um, do you want me to help you put your boots back on?"
Kelly nodded "They're hard to get on and off".
I knelt back down and offered the left boot for Kelly to insert her foot, which she did. Kelly had to push quite hard to get her foot in while I tried to pull the boot up onto her foot, also using my chest to push the boot on. After a short struggle, the boot was on Kelly's foot and she then pressed/kicked the sole of her boot into my chest 5 times to make sure the boot was on properly, the last 3 times giving her heel a good dig into
my lower rib and upper stomach. I must have grimaced as Kelly said "Oh sorry, did that hurt?" (although still resting her boot heel at least half an inch into my stomach just below my rib as she asked this).
"No it's OK. They are hard to get on, aren't they?"
"Yeah. I probably should've got them in the next size up instead of size 8. But I love how these boots look so it's worth a bit of work getting them on. These are my favourite boots. I wear them every weekend when we go clubbing."
I then offered Kelly her right boot and she tried to get her foot into that boot but with the bandage around her ankle it was hopeless. I told Kelly she should probably leave that boot off and just sit with her foot raised for the rest of the day. Kelly wanted me to take the bandage off so she could get her boot back on. I tried to convince Kelly to leave the bandage on and just rest her foot, but Kelly said "Well I need to go get my lunch". I offered to go get Kelly's lunch if she would write down what she wanted but she said she also needed to go to the ATM to get some money to pay for her lunch. I said I was happy to pay for her lunch today after all she'd been through. Kelly quickly accepted my offer and wrote down her order on a piece of paper, folded it twice and handed it to me, adding "Do you know the Continental Cafe?", to which I nodded. I then went and got a chair from the lunchroom and set it up for Kelly to rest her injured foot and keep it elevated. I had no sooner put the chair down than Kelly placed her foot on the chair. "Is that OK?" I asked.
"Actually, there's not enough padding. I need more cushioning." Kelly then looked over to the cupboard beside my desk, or to be precise, to my cashmere jumper that I kept in that cupboard. When I turned back to Kelly she was giving me puppy dog eyes and saying "Pleeease. My foot's still a bit painful".
I nodded and picked up my neatly folded jumper and then, as Kelly lifted up her stockinged foot about 10cm, I placed my jumper on the chair and Kelly immediately dropped her foot onto it. "That's much better. Thanks!" Kelly chirped as she began rocking her foot on her heel left to right, back and forth on my jumper. Then Kelly said "I'm so hungry. Thanks for buying my lunch. You're the best boss."
"Thanks Kelly. I won't be long. Make sure you rest that ankle."
When I got to the cafe I opened Kelly's note. I was expecting her usual lunch of a salad roll and a bottle of water or juice. But her order was for two hot chicken rolls with a large salad on the side and a piece of cheesecake and a piece of chocolate cake with an extra large smoothie. Then I realised Kelly had written down her order AFTER I'd said I would pay for her lunch today. So I was starting to suspect Kelly was taking advantage of my kindness. Still, after having such an enjoyable morning catering to Kelly's feet, I was quite happy to buy her whatever she wanted for lunch. When I got back with Kelly's lunch she was still sitting at her desk with her bandaged foot on the chair, but while I was out Kelly had also put her left foot up on the chair, and therefore on my jumper. With her ankle boot still on!

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Part 3
I handed Kelly her lunch order but she didn't actually say thank you, just "Cool. I was starving" as she opened up the bags on her desk. I looked at her feet on the chair, on my favourite jumper. Kelly's stockinged right foot was crossed over on top of her booted left foot, and the back of her left boot including the boot's high heel had sunk about 8cm into the 10cm of cushion that was my neatly folded cashmere jumper. That jumper had been kind of expensive and I was hoping Kelly's boot wouldn't do any damage to it. Kelly had started eating her lunch and soon moved her feet so they were perched with the soles on the edge, so I was relieved that my jumper wouldn't get any damage from the heel of Kelly's boot. But then Kelly said "Can you bring the chair a bit closer. Your jumper makes a great cushion for my ankle. It's so soft. Is it wool?"
Kelly lifted her feet slightly as I moved the chair closer and said "Yeah kind of. It's cashmere. Um, goats wool"
Kelly dropped her feet back down onto my jumper. I cringed as I saw the entire 3 inch heel of her left boot disappear into my jumper. I tried to remember whether the heel had any jagged bit that could wreck my jumper but couldn't recall, and thought that in any case the two sharp corners at the front of the heel might snag a thread anyway. "Yeah. Um, did you want me to help you take off the other boot? It must feel weird just having one boot on".
Kelly took a bite of her roll and then looked at her boot, twisting it around on its heel while she chewed, before swallowing and saying "Nah, doesn't feel weird. Probably because your jumper's so soft... perfect cushion for my feet." Adding as she twisted her heel back and forth "Look! You can't even see my heel" as we both looked at the dark blue leather of her ankle boot, most of which was visible above my jumper, but the heel completely enveloped in soft cashmere.
I nodded and sat at my desk. Kelly used my jumper as a cushion for her feet for the rest of the day. When it was nearing closing time, Kelly said "OK First Aid Officer, time to take off my bandage. Come on. Hurry up", as she sat back up on the desk. I quickly knelt down again and started unravelling the bandage. While I did this, Kelly began poking the round toe of her left boot into my stomach, sometimes just briefly pushing her toe into my stomach, but sometimes pressing her toe in quite deep and then just leaving it in there. On one occasion Kelly began wiggling her boot as she tried to push the toe boot in a bit further. As I finished removing the bandage, Kelly removed her boot from my stomach and said "OK. Put my boot on."
I picked up Kelly's right boot and held it against the left side of my chest. She pushed her foot into the boot as I helped. And then she gave me a big smile before she began stomping her boot into my chest 8 times while laughing and saying "Sorrryyy. (giggle) Have to get it on properly you know. (giggles)". Each stomp made good use of that thick 3 inch heel, which hit stomach, ribs and chest several times each. Then came the 9th stomp, as I was leaning back, and Kelly lifted her knee high and stomped her heel down into my stomach, smiling. And left it there continuing to press down on her heel and grinding her heel in as she tried to get it deeper into my stomach. I looked at my stomach and I think 2 inches of her heel were sunk right in. I looked up at Kelly and she looked slightly annoyed as she stared at her heel in my stomach. She seemed to be trying to figure out why she could only get two inches of heel into my stomach. And that's when Kelly gave me a quizzical look, smiled and said "Sorry".
I said "That's OK", thinking Kelly was apologising for what she had just done (even though she still had 2 inches of her boot's heel firmly embedded in my stomach), when in fact her 'sorry' had been for what she had decided she was going to do next. Kelly lifted her body up from the desk supporting most of her weight on her arms, but placing a considerable amount of weight onto the heel of her right foot. And then Kelly began increasing the weight on the heel of her right boot, twisting it slightly to get a little deeper, and also to get a better view of whether the whole three inches had gone in. Soon Kelly had all of her weight on that heel and was just barely holding the desk and chair for balance.
"Ke-elly....why....
"Well I know you didn't like me digging my heel into your precious jumper, so I thought I'd use your stomach instead".
I managed to say "Sor-ry....I....just...
"I injured my ankle and was in so much pain. But you didn't even thank me for staying at work for the rest of the day". And then when I wanted something soft to rest my injured foot on, you were so obvious about not wanting me to put my boot on your jumper. 'Um, do you want me to take your boot off? Doesn't it feel weird having one boot on' (mimicking me). My boots aren't dirty! And they probably cost a lot more than your stupid jumper! At first you were so nice to me, helping me with the icepack, and getting my lunch, but then you spoiled it all by being such a jerk about your jumper. 'Oh it's cashmere - goats wool you know'(mimicking me again). I hope your jumper is ruined!"
I gasped "I'm...so...sorry...
Kelly gave a little bounce on her heel, still drilling into my stomach, then stepped off, grabbing her bag and walking toward the exit.
I yelled after her "Sorry Kelly".
My stomach was really sore. My shirt wasn't actually torn, but there was a slight perforation in the material where Kelly had been standing on her heel for so long. I went to the washroom and looked at my stomach. The area where Kelly had been standing had a perfect imprint of the tip of her heel with just one light scrape at the inside corner of her heel. I also had a number of marks from Kelly's heel where she had stomped to "make sure her boot was on properly".
I sat at my desk and pondered whether I'd been unreasonable to begrudge an injured girl the use of my jumper. Or had Kelly been unreasonable to use me as a footrest while I ministered to her injured ankle? Or when Kelly took advantage of my offer to buy her lunch? And I still couldn't help feeling that Kelly was a bit ungrateful, putting her ankle boot all over my jumper. And although Kelly said her boots weren't dirty, I notice quite a few dark scuff marks on my shirt from where Kelly had put her 'not dirty' boots that she wears to nightclubs on weekends. And I don't understand why her boots costing more than my jumper should make it OK to wreck my jumper with those boots. I picked up my jumper to examine it for damage, but there was only two small smudges of dirt from her boot which hopefully will just wash out anyway. I guess I should've just let Kelly use the jumper and kept my mouth shut. Now Kelly's upset and who knows if she'll turn up for work tomorrow. And if she does turn up, it's going to be awkward. Maybe Kelly will feel bad and apologise tomorrow. I hope she doesn't complain about me... what if she's figured out about my foot fetish and puts in a complaint? I better be nice to Kelly if she turns up for work tomorrow, and try to put today behind us. On the bright side, the way she was stomping me with her right foot, I'm pretty sure Kelly's ankle is OK now.
......to be continued

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Part 4
The following day, Tuesday, Kelly did turn up to work. Almost half an hour late, but Kelly was usually late arriving to work.
Kelly stood in the doorway and sheepishly asked "Am I fired?"
"No, of course not" I replied.
Kelly stayed in the doorway. "I, um... I don't know if I accidentally stepped on you yesterday. I think I might have. By accident! And, ah, if I did, then I apologise. Even though it was completely by accident!"
I was a bit taken aback by this apology and, after a brief pause, smiled at Kelly and said "By accident? Kelly, you stood on my stomach quite deliberately and you even told me off while you were standing on me."
"Did I? I don't even remember it. I had a really big weekend and I think I was still a bit wasted yesterday. I had a vague feeling I might have stepped on you as I left, but it was completely unintentional. I would never step on someone deliberately. It was just an accident. I said sorry so let's just forget about the whole thing. OK?"
"Yep, OK. But I also wanted to apologise - when you injured yourself, I really should have asked if you wanted to go home. At the very least, I should have said thanks for staying at work when you were injured. And I was a bit childish about my jumper and I'm sorry about that too. I certainly didn't mean to offend you or imply that your boots were dirty. And in any case, people are much more important than material things. Sorry if I made you angry."
Kelly gave a little laugh. "That's OK. Apology accepted. To be honest, my boots were kind of dirty. When I got home last night, I told my mum all about yesterday: spraining my ankle, you taking my boots off, holding the icepack for half an hour, bandaging my foot, letting me rest my feet on your jumper, getting my lunch and putting my boots back on. She gave me a huuuge lecture. Apparently, according to my mum, my feet stink and she couldn't believe you sat holding my foot for half an hour with the icepack. She called me a spoilt brat so I didn't tell her I was resting my other foot on you as well."
I laughed "Really? A spoilt brat? Haha"
Kelly explained "Mum asked if I was in a lot of pain after I'd sprained my ankle, and I said it was mostly boring, just sitting there for all that time. Somehow I ended up telling her I spoke to Lucy on the phone for ten minutes and then read a magazine, and Mum said I was really rude ignoring you while you were down there applying first aid to my foot. So I wasn't about to tell her I rested my other foot on you that whole time." Kelly started laughing "But you did make a really good footrest!"
"Gee, thanks" I said, rolling my eyes.
And when I told Mum that you helped me put my boots back on, she was pretty grossed out. She said my ankle boots are 'filthy and disgusting' from wearing them whenever I go out. Then she said I should throw them out and buy a new pair, but I said I've got no money to buy new boots. I owe Mum $900, my credit card is maxed out, and I'm paying off my car loan, so it will be a long time before I can buy any new clothes or boots."
I told Kelly "Your blue ankle boots just need a bit of a clean, that's all." Then I hurriedly added "Not that I'm saying they're dirty. They look good. But they'd look even better with a bit of a clean."
"Yeah, I know" Kelly sighed. "Anyway, after being told that my boots were filthy and disgusting, I decided not to tell her that I was wearing one of those boots while using your jumper as a footrest. I mean obviously she was going to take your side and tell me I was a spoilt brat for putting my dirty boot all over your jumper. So I just told her about you removing the bandage and giving me a hand to get my boots on. And then when I was rushing to leave so I didn't miss my train, I mustn't have seen you and slightly stepped on you by accident."
"Right. What did your Mum say about you accidentally stepping on me?"
"Oh, no way would I tell her I stepped on you. She already says that I treat people like doormats, so if I told her I stepped on you I'd never hear the end of it. Especially in my 'filthy' boots. hahaha."
I sat there wanting to offer to clean Kelly's blue ankle boots for her, but chickened out. So far I hadn't even seen what boots Kelly was wearing today. In any case, the only shoe polish I had in my desk drawer was black, so I wouldn't be able to polish them properly, just give them a clean.
Kelly looked thoughtfully at me and asked "Did I ruin your jumper?"
"No, no damage at all really. A couple of very small dirt marks which should clean out fairly easily."
Kelly looked a little surprised. "Really? Because I was wiping my boot all over that jumper and ground the heel and sole into it heaps." Kelly started laughing "That jumper was so soft - perfect for use as a footrest."
As Kelly continued to laugh, I asked "You said I was a really good footrest too. Which was the best footrest? Me or my jumper?"
Kelly thought for a while, still laughing a bit. "Well, that's a tough question. With the jumper I got to rest both feet on it, not just one...and I got to wear my boots,...well one boot, and I got to use it for 4 hours, and it was soooo soft. But, I only got to rest one foot on you, and only for half an hour,...and without my boots on. And you weren't as soft underfoot as the jumper...although I did like the bit just above your chest."
"Um...my collarbone?"
"No, the bit above that. It was nice and squishy when I poked my toes in there. It felt really nice."
"Right. Yeah, that was my neck."
Kelly burst out laughing. "Cool. Your neck makes a good footrest then!" When Kelly stopped laughing, she declared "Both footrests were very good, but the one that was best was..... You! Let's face it, it's not every day that I get to rub my sweaty foot on my boss!" and then started laughing again.
I asked Kelly how her ankle is today and she replied that it was good as new. And with that we returned to our work duties.
At lunchtime, Kelly went and got her lunch, then as she sat at her desk eating Kelly said "I was just looking at that shoe store down the road. They've got some gorgeous boots in there. But they're so expensive. I might just have to clean my blue ones somehow. I've never cleaned boots before, other than wiping off dirt and grass if I had no other choice."
"Are you serious? You've never cleaned any of your boots or shoes before?"
Kelly shrugged, "That's why all my boots and shoes are kind of dirty. I'm feeling really selfconscious about it now, since my mum said my ankle boots were disgusting. Now I'm worried that people are looking at me and going 'look at her shoes...how disgusting'."
I told Kelly "I wouldn't worry about it if I was you. But if it's bothering you, I do have some black shoe polish in my drawer. You're wearing your black shoes today, aren't you?"
"Yeah, I am" Kelly said looking down at her black leather loafers with a thick sole and a chunky heel about 4 inches high. "They do really need a good clean"
I opened the drawer and took out the polish and an old T-shirt that I use for shining shoes. As I turned to face Kelly's desk, she asked "Are you going to lend me the polish or are you going to clean them for me?"
"Whichever you want" I replied.
"Can you clean them for me?" Kelly sweetly asked, and I said "Sure".
As I got to Kelly's desk, she said "Do you want me to take them off or should I leave them on?"
"I'm not fussed either way. Whichever way you prefer is fine."
"I might leave them on if that's ok" and put her right foot up on her desk ready for me to start cleaning her shoe. I knelt facing Kelly and she moved her foot from the desk onto my thigh. I gave the shoe a thorough wipe to remove any dust, etc.
Kelly laughed, "I can't believe my boss is cleaning my shoes. I wish I had a camera."
I then applied the shoe polish evenly to the leather, before placing the shoe back onto my thigh telling Kelly that I would polish that one on a minute or so, after the polish had gone a bit tacky. "Other foot please" I asked.
Kelly placed her left foot on my other thigh and I repeated the process.
"I can't believe you're cleaning my shoes. I was so worried last night that I was going to get fired for standing on your stomach. I was standing with all my weight on the heel of my boot - it must have killed - but now I'm sitting with my feet on you again while you clean my shoes."
I set to work polishing and buffing Kelly's shoes, starting with the right one. After a while, Kelly placed both of her feet on my chest to inspect the difference between the polished right shoe and her unpolished left shoe and commented "Cool. Check the difference. My mum's gonna freak when she sees my shoes all nice and clean" as she put her feet back on my thighs so I could continue shining her shoes. "Hmm, do you mind if I tell my mum that I cleaned them myself?"
"No,of course I don't mind"
"Cool, I don't want her to think I'm a spoilt brat getting you to clean my shoes" Kelly said as I began polishing her left shoe and she rested her right foot on my chest and shoulder, turning her shoe at different angles to admire the shoeshine and every so often nudging the side of my chin and cheek. "I don't suppose you have any dark blue polish that you could bring in to work tomorrow?" Kelly asked.
"I don't, but I have a neutral clear polish that should be safe to use on your blue boots."
"Cool. Can you bring it in tomorrow? And do you have a beige polish for my other boots?"
"I've got a very light brown polish that might be a colour match. Otherwise we could use the clear polish on those boots as well."
Kelly sat back in her chair and smiled contentedly and straightened her right leg to forcefully push the heel of her shoe into my chest. "It feels great having someone clean your shoes while you're wearing them. You're the best boss I've ever had" Kelly told me as she twisted her right heel into my chest. As I buffed the back of Kelly's left heel, the toe of her shoe pressed firmly into my stomach just below the rib. When I said "OK. All finished" Kelly seemed to be in no rush to remove her feet from me. Kelly began rolling the toe of her left shoe up and down over my rib, staring at me and then asking "So it's OK for me to use you as a footrest then?"
I nodded.
Kelly started pressing the toe of her right shoe into my neck but, annoyed she couldn't feel the squish, said "Can you take off my shoe", after which Kelly began digging her toes hard into my neck just above the collarbone.
"Do you want me to remove your other shoe as well?"
Kelly nodded and as soon as I slid off her shoe, she began poking the toes of her left foot into the other side of my neck. Kelly would giggle every now and then, especially when I would occasionally have trouble breathing.
"I love this. My feet on my boss's neck." A few minutes later Kelly put her feet back on my thighs and then slid her shoes back on before placing her feet back on my legs and asking "Did you clean the soles as well?"

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Good continuation as Kelly begins to ramp things up. She has a nice playful way about her though I suspect there is something a little more sinister underneath. The boss better get those soles cleaned quick if he knows what’s good for him or things could get much worse much quicker...

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Part 5
Kelly lifted her left foot to show me the sole of her shoe. With her shoe only a couple of inches from my face, Kelly asked "Are they very dirty?" Kelly's shoe had a hard sole made of rubber. There were some traces of the original tread, but the fine lines of the sole's tread had mostly been worn down from years of wear. There were quite a few tiny grains of stone embedded in the sole.
"Clean the soles as well."
I told Kelly "I'm not sure how to clean them. You don't want me to put polish on your soles, do you?"
"Ugghh. Of course not. Don't be ridiculous. Just wash off the dirt or whatever."
I went to the lunchroom and returned with a damp cloth. I knelt back down and Kelly immediately put her feet back on my legs. I washed the soles of Kelly's shoes. "Let them dry before you put your feet back on the carpet, otherwise they might pick up a few bits of fluff."
"No. You dry them for me" Kelly said.
I asked Kelly to pass me the box of tissues sitting on her desk.
"What? I don't want bits of tissue stuck to my shoes. I need something that is lint-free"
I looked around the office for something suitable.
"...like your shirt!" said Kelly as she put her feet on the front of my shirt and began to wipe her feet up and down my shirt as she giggled. Every so often, Kelly would twist her foot to wipe the instep or heel, looking at her feet and just focusing on drying her shoes. After a few minutes, Kelly looked at me and said "Thanks for this. I've had these shoes for 3 years but now they look new again. You really are the best boss ever." Kelly continued wiping her feet on my shirt then asked "Aren't you going to say I'm the best employee ever?
I sat quietly thinking to myself...Kelly was late to work every day and also had taken at least one sick day every week she'd worked here. Also, Kelly was lazy, her work was barely even adequate, and since Kelly had started, money had gone missing from the safe each week with Kelly being the main suspect.
I suddenly felt pain in my stomach as Kelly began grinding the heel of her right shoe into my stomach, right in the spot where she stood on me yesterday.
I flinched and grimaced in pain. "OK. Yep. You're the best employee ever."
Kelly stopped grinding her heel and laughed. "Did that hurt?"
"A little bit. I'm just a bit sore there from when you were standing on me yesterday"
"Sorrryyy" Kelly laughed and went back to wiping the soles of her shoes on my shirt.
Kelly soon started laughing to herself. I looked at Kelly and asked "What's so funny?"
"My mum often says I treat people like a doormat. If she saw me wiping my shoes on you, she'd have a fit" said Kelly, still laughing. After another minute or so, Kelly stopped wiping her shoes on me and placed her feet back on my legs, then put her hands on her knees as she leant forward and examined her shoes to make sure she was satisfied. Kelly said "Good work", then leant back in her chair and raised her right heel to my stomach. Kelly began pressing her heel hard into my stomach, pressing in different spots while she watched my face closely. On the eighth dig of her heel, she found that tender spot again and I winced slightly. Kelly left her heel in that spot and laughed.
"Is that the spot that's sore from yesterday?"
I nodded yes and Kelly pressed harder on that spot. I tried to withstand the pressure from her heel, but found myself leaning back to ease the pressure. Kelly noticed this and said "Don't be such a wimp. These heels aren't even sharp...they're at least an inch across! And I don't see how you could still be sore from yesterday. I only slightly stepped on you. One little accidental step and you make such a big deal out of it, you big baby."
My pride at stake, I leant forward against the pressure of Kelly's heel even though it was rather painful. Kelly grinned and began to twist her heel around slightly. "That's better. Maybe you're not a wimp after all."
I responded "Kelly, you know that you did more than just slightly step on me yesterday. That's why my stomach is sore. It's not that I'm a wimp."
Kelly stuck to her story, "I don't even remember stepping on you. Other than some vague feeling that I stepped on something as I was leaving, and it might have been you that I stepped on. But it was just an accident."
"Oh come on, Kelly. You stood on me for about a minute. It wasn't an accident...you were digging your heel into my stomach, just like you're doing now, and you were watching your heel sink deeper and deeper, and then you used the desk and chair for balance and stood up."
"What? I don't remember any of that at all."
I smiled at Kelly. "When I was cleaning your shoes, you said you were worrying last night that you'd get fired for standing on my stomach, and you said you'd stood with all your weight on the heel of your boot, and that it must have killed."
Kelly looked a little embarrassed, "Yeah. Straight after I said that, I knew I'd blown my story, but I was hoping you hadn't noticed. I'm sorry for lying.
I just thought I might be better off just denying everything. I hadn't expected you to be so nice about what happened yesterday."
"Kelly, as far as I'm concerned, Monday's events weren't a big deal. Certainly nothing for you to be in any trouble."
"Really? So are you still OK with cleaning my blue boots tomorrow?"
"Of course."
Kelly lifted her left foot and placed it on my stomach and chest beside her right foot, smiling happily. "It's gonna be funny watching you clean the boot that was standing on you. I can't wait."
Kelly pushed her feet against my chest to move her chair back and swivelled to face her computer screen as she went back to work.

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